


Finlandia

by syvamiete



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen, consists of one-shots, loosely based on history
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-05
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2017-12-17 18:47:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/870810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syvamiete/pseuds/syvamiete
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A kid in the woods, a 'wife', Russian's underling, an independent nation. The story of Finland from the beginning to the present day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The boy

**Author's Note:**

> Couple of things about the story. First of all, the story line will be based on the actual history of Finland, but I’m going to take some artistic liberties in the presentation of the events. Secondly, my background information comes from the various sources (basically what I remember from the school flavoured with little details I’ve checked from the Internet or a few books), so bear with me if there’s some inconsistencies or errors. Thirdly, each chapter will a kind of a one-shot, which can be read separately from the rest, but there should also be some development among the story arch. The fourth and the last thing is about this chapter: it takes place on the Iron Age, so all the Nordics are still kids.  
> In the end of the chapter, there’ll be translations for a few sentences and more rambling about the details and the background of the story for those who are interested. Hopefully you’ll enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: The probability of me owning Hetalia is as high as facing a polar bear in a Finnish forest. And I don’t own the story image either.

Wind had finally started to blow from the south. The sky was clear blue and the sun had started to warm, even though it hadn’t yet managed to defeat the relentless frost that came back every night. Sweden looked at the open sea. Grey floes seemed thick and steady, but it was only an illusion: they wouldn’t take a weight of a man. Denmark had demonstrated that couple of days before, when Norway had dared him to go to prove that.

Loud toots filled the air. He raised his eyes to see the wedge of cranes fly over him towards the inland. He let his gaze follow them until they disappeared behind the woods.

Their voices receded slowly and the silence returned. He crouched to pick up his packages. He would have to get from the shore before dark or otherwise the freezing sea wind would make his night extremely uncomfortable. He was already hoisting the bag on his back, when he suddenlt halted. There was something in the bushes. Something, that made the branches sway almost imperceptibly. Twigs moved a bit and he saw a pair of violet eyes staring straight at him. The said eyes widened in horror when their owner realised they had been noticed. He heard a soft gasp. The eyes blinked once and before Sweden could even consider moving, the bushes jerked and the creature was gone. Only a small rustle told that the owner of the eyes was fleeing deeper into the woods. Soon even the sound faded away leaving Sweden alone at the seashore.

* * *

 

After that day, there were several similar encounters. Every time Sweden ended up to the other side of the gulf on his expeditions, he could feel someone trailing him. Most of the time he couldn’t see anyone, but sometimes, when he was lucky, he managed to catch a glimpse of violet eyes or a blonde hair.

This time he had ventured further on the inland than ever before. He had stopped to rest near a small lake. His shoulders were stiff from carrying the packages whole morning. He dropped them on the moss and sat next to them leaning his back on the trunk of a nearby pine tree.

He had started his journey at the sunrise, which this far north in summer time meant _really_ early. He could feel the drowsiness starting to creep into his limps. The forest around him was peaceful, a few birds singing and a couple of squirrels sounded to tussle in a group of spruces. He closed his eyes and let his head rest against the trunk despite the high possibility of getting resin in his hair. Slowly, sleep started to take over him.

Suddenly all his senses sharpened. It was that feeling again. He wasn’t alone in the forest.

He didn’t open his eyes but listened carefully to his surroundings. For a moment, there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. But then, something rustled on his right. Then silence again. He stayed still and strained his hearing distinguishing a quiet susurrus. It appeared in an irregular rhythm as if the cause of it would have been stopping every ones in a while.

This continued for some time until the sounds were only a couple of metres away and then they stopped completely. Regardless of how hard he tried, there weren’t anything to hear. Finally, he couldn’t hold himself and slowly opened his eyes.

In front of him stood a small boy. They stared each other, neither one daring to move. The boy was definitively the one he had seen in the bushes. He had a short fair hair and big eyes with a distinct violet shade. He was younger than Sweden, four or five years old, and wore a white tunic and blue slacks and had an arrow and a quiver strapped in his back.

It was as if time had stopped; they both just stayed still facing each other even though the forest continued its life around them. Finally, Sweden was the first to break the spell. He started slowly to move his hand to his side to use it to prop him up. However, once the boy realised what he was doing, he let a strangled yelp and dashed towards the shrubbery.

“Wait! Don’t go!” Sweden called after him, but too late. The boy had already vanished.

He slumped back on a tussock cursing his impatience. It was no use to run after someone who probably knew these forests so much better. He just hoped he hadn’t scared the boy for good.

* * *

 

 “What is it?”

Sweden raised his eyes from the blade he had been sharpening to the Norwegian standing in front of him.

“What ya mean?” he asked continuing his work.

“You have clearly been pondering something since returning from your latest journey. What is it?”

Sweden ran his finger at the blade checking its sharpness. He hadn’t told to anyone about the boy. There wasn’t any real reason why not, but for some reason he wanted to know more about him before sharing him with the world. But if there were one person he could trust, it was Norway. He had nothing to lose.

“There‘s this small boy,” he started waiting Norway’s reaction, but when he didn’t say anything, he continued.

“Sometimes, when I’m in the woods he seems to watch me.”

“Maybe he’s just one of the locals?”

Sweden shook his head. “It’s been 17 years since I first saw him and he hasn’t changed at all. And he has this air...”

Norway was quiet for a moment digesting the information and considering the possibilities. “Have he ever talked to you?”

“No.”

“Have you seen him everywhere you go or just in a certain place?”

“Just on the other side of the gulf.”

Norway paused again before voicing his guess: “He might be a Landvættir.”

Sweden gave him a questioning look.

“They are the spirits of the land. They protect and promote the flourishing of the place they live. It seems that this spirit of yours is settled down to the area behind the gulf.” He looked Sweden in eyes. “It’s probably no use to try to speak to him. He just wants to make sure you respect his home.”

Sweden watched as Norway closed the door behind him and left him alone in the shed. He didn’t have a clue how the other knew about what he had been trying. After the incident at the lake, he hadn’t seen the boy anymore, but the feeling of being watched stayed, so he started to speak knowing that the other one was listening. He hadn’t got any answer but kept talking, hoping to lure the boy out. But if Nor was right and the boy really was a nature spirit, there would never be a real conversation. The spirits were overly shy and there were only a few stories about them talking to anyone. It seemed that he had to settle for admiring the boy from far.

* * *

 

The sky had turned to deep blue. Sparks crackled from their campfire when the flames licked pitchy wood, floating towards the darkening treetops.

“Well, it’s not half bad. But there’s nothing we wouldn’t have back at home.” The Dane stretched his legs and adjusted a package behind his back.

“There should be some sort of a lake area in the North-East, wasn’t it so?” Norway asked from the Swede on the other side of the fire. He got just an affirmative grunt.

“Nah, I’ve never cared much for fishing.”

They sat for a while in silence staring in the fire. Finally, Denmark got bored and broke the atmosphere. “Man, I’m hungry,” he gushed shifting to dig his bag. “Anyone els-“

Both Sweden and Norway glanced at him to see why he had stopped. They heard a muffled thump and rustle, but his back was at them and the fire didn’t provide much light so they couldn’t tell what he was doing. A loud shriek split the air and almost drowned the Danish cursing: “Päästä minut! Mitä helvettiä luulet tekeväsi? Päästä irti!” With a great difficulty, Denmark managed to turn and drag something into the light. Sweden stiffened when he recognised the blond hair.

Norway noticed his reaction, glanced at the small boy who was wriggling fiercely in the Dane’s hold yelling much louder than one would have expected from his size, and quickly connected the dots. “Is that the boy you’ve seen?”

Sweden gave him a nod being unable to tear his eyes from the boy who was now trying to kick Denmark.

“After you two have done your chitchat could you please help me with this little brat?”

“It seems to me you’re doing just fine.”

Denmark glared the Norwegian and was about to snap something back when the kid managed to jab his heel to his thigh. He grunted and wrapped his legs around the boy and clasped a hand over his mouth to stop the continuous rant. “This little thief was digging our- Ouch! Dit svin! He bit me!”

Using Denmark’s shock, the kid managed to wriggle himself free. He stumbled on his feet and sprinted away but had forgotten the other two around the fire. Before he had time to realise his mistake he was tackled down by Norway. This caused a new litany of incomprehensible words, but the tone made their meaning quite obvious.

Sweden could only blink. Was this really the same shy boy he had seen? He looked the same, but this kid fought like a wolverine. Nor had to use his whole body weight to pin him down. And all this time he was shouting something in a weird language.

“Cut it off,” Norway snarled at the kid. “Or I’ll break something.”

The struggle and the yells died immediately. The boy laid still on the ground panting heavily, but Norway didn’t ease his hold. “Well, he’s definitely not a Landvættir,” he said glancing at Sweden. “But you’re right; he’s not a human either.”

“What the heck are you talking about? Do you know that brat?” Denmark asked pointing the boy.

“I’ve seen him couple of times,” Sweden admitted.

“He’s been stealing from you too?”

“No, he’ve just watched.”

Norway started slowly to release the kid still staying close enough in case he would try something. The boy looked at him warily not knowing what the older boy was planning. When nothing happened, he slowly sat up.

“There really is something odd about him,” Denmark said peering at the kid. “He surely isn’t a normal human. Could he actually be one of us? A nation?”

Norway opened his mouth to tell the Dane to shut up, but stopped because, surprisingly, the Dane had actually made a rational point.

All three turned to scrutinise the kid, who was sitting between them and glancing from side to side looking more and more horrified as he realised how small his chances of escaping were.

“It’d explain everything,” Sweden finally admitted.

“Yep, he has to be. So brat, what’s your name?” Denmark asked stepping in front of the kid.

The boy’s eyes widened and he stumble backwards before colliding into Norway. This made him to jump and crawl to other direction. He didn’t stop until he was as far from both of them as possible. After that, he curled into a tight ball and buried his head into his knees looking miserable.

“Ya scare him,” Sweden said and went to dig his packages. After he found what he was looking for, he walked at the boy crouching next to him but keeping a small distance not wanting to startle him again. “Ya must be hungry,” he said as friendly as he could.

Slowly the violet eyes peaked over the knees. “Here.” They widened as the boy spotted a piece of bread Sweden was handing to him. “Ya can have it.”

The kid didn’t do anything to take the bread, so Sweden put it down next to him and returned to his place at the fire.

Silence fell again when the all three deemed the boy. Finally, Denmark cut it by exclaiming that he was hungry too and trudged back at his bags. He tossed a bundle of dried meat to Norway. “If the brat’s gonna eat, then we can too.”

Sweden followed from the corner of his eye how the kid hesitated. He clearly wanted to take the bread but didn’t dare to. He watched closely as the others started their meal and then, when he thought no one was looking, he reached a little, snatched the bread and curled back into a ball.

When the older three were ending their supper and the boy was nibbling his own meal, Sweden decided to repeat the Dane’s earlier question: “What’s yo name?”

The boy didn’t answer and only locked his eyes tightly to the ground before him.

Sweden tried another one: “Where are ya from?”

The boy didn’t answered to that either and Sweden was already turning back to the fire when he raised a quivering hand and pointed to the East.

“At least the brat seems to understand us,” noted Denmark.

“You can’t keep calling him that,” Norway said.

“Why not? He refuses to tell his name.”

“We just have to decide another name for him until he tells his real one. Something like Österland for example, since he comes from east.”

“Sounds fine to me.”

“I’m gonna stick to brat.”

This earned a slap from Norway, which lead to the usual bickering. Soon enough Sweden got bored of watching their squabbling and turned to look at the kid. To his surprise, the boy had laid on the ground and fallen asleep. Like this, he looked much more like the boy he had seen at the lake all those years ago. The flames made his hair glimmer and his face looked peaceful, all the previous frenzy gone. Sweden rose and went to wrap his cloak over him. The boy stirred a little but continued to sleep.

A smile ghosted on his lips as he returned at the fire. Denmark and Nor had got enough of their bickering and were now discussing the next day’s travel plan. Sweden listened at them half-heartedly as his eyes kept wandering to the sleeping figure. In the light of the fire, the boy actually looked ethereal.

* * *

 

At the morning, first thing Sweden did when he opened his eyes was to check the boy. He dashed up right when he realised that the place where the boy had been was now empty.

“He left.”

He turned at the Norwegian who was crouching at the remains of last night’s campfire trying to get the embers to catch ignite again.

“He was already gone when I woke up. He left your cloak,” he pointed a pile of things next to Sweden’s bed.

“That brat!” Denmark yelled bouncing up from his bed hair sticking into random directions. “He of course nicked all our things and slipped away while we were-“

 “He didn’t take anything and returned what he had already taken last night,” Norway interrupted pointing the pile again.

“He had already managed to stole something before I caught him? That’s it, from now on I’m not gonna let my bags out of my sight,” Denmark fumed.

Sweden shut off his rambling and ran his fingers over the neatly folded cloth. Any of the things set on it weren’t that important and they wouldn’t have missed them in several days. Just some food, a small knife and a clip of rope. He rested his hand on the blue fabric. Maybe his efforts last night hadn’t been totally fruitless. Maybe next time…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! Here’s some more rambling about for those few who’re interested. I want to use the opportunity and thank my sister who tolerated me when I was agonising about the Sweden’s speak (or just spamming her with random Hetalia stuff :)  
> And here are the translations:
> 
> (Finnish) “Päästä minut! Mitä helvettiä luulet tekeväsi? Päästä irti!” = ”Let me go! What the hell do you think you’re doing? Let go!”  
> (Danish) “Dit svin!” = “You bastard!”
> 
> And then some random history facts I used. Yay! As long as there have been people in the area nowadays called as Finland, they have had some kind of interaction with guys on the other side of the Gulf of Bothnia, but for the sake of the story I put Tino and Berwald’s first encounter to the Iron Age. The timing is as it is because it ended c. 1150 AC when Swedish Conquest to Finland was over. There weren’t any kind of written sources before that. And I’ve made a conscious anachronism when I made Norway name Finland Österland (literally meaning Easternlands) ‘cause the name didn’t become in to use until on Middle Age, when Finland officially became part of Sweden.  
> The reason why Finland and the others had bit difficulties to understand each other was due Finnish belonging into completely different language group than the most of the other European languages. Finnish is part of Finnish-Uralic language family (which originated from the Ural as the name states. Estonia and Hungarian are also part of this group.) The rest of the Nordic languages belong into Germanic language family, which is based on the early German.  
> I already know what the next chapter will be about. Now I just have to get myself to write it…


	2. Vedetta

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Huge thanks to all of those who have left kudos!  
> Sorry this took so long, I got sucked into hype over Supernatural's new season. But to the point: this time the story takes place in the end of the Viking Age (around 10th century). And again, translations and more rambling about the background of the story in the end for those who’re interested.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own as many per cent of Hetalia as Prussia has citizens.

Finland watched as the sun set behind the treetops. The pail orange sky mirrored from the still lake surface and a bird song drifted over the water. It was really beautiful. He stood at the bank admiring the view. Eventually the sun disappeared behind the horizon and the dusk started to settle. The air cooled down quickly and he had to rub his arms to keep warm.

   It was time to return to the house. Ice has probably already in bed. The boy had been so drowsy at the dinner that he had almost fallen asleep on his chair. But he should still check him since Mister Denmark had left him in charge when he, mister Sweden and mister Norway had once again went to one of their expeditions. Thus far one of them had always stayed at home, so this was the first time he had been left alone in house for more than a day (well, there was Iceland, but he was so small he didn’t count). Finland wasn’t sure which one was more unnerving, being responsible of the house all by himself or having to spend time alone with Mister Sweden who was most often the one staying home.

   He skipped down a small footpath and could already see the clearing where the house was behind the trees when he suddenly halted. Someone was squatting in the bushes. Finland covered quickly behind a nearby willow thicket. It was a wonder that the other one haven’t heard him. Based on what he could see through the leaves he was a young blond boy, maybe around his age. He looked quite harmless, but years living next to Novgorod had taught him not to trust first appearances.

   The boy’s behaviour certainly raised suspicion: he had chosen the only place where no one could see him from the house, but he had a clear view to the yard. He also had a small sword with him. Finland was just pondering whether he should confront the stranger now or wait and see what he was up to, when the boy suddenly moved. He crawled slowly nearer to the house and stopped behind the corner of the stables.

   Finland crept behind him careful not to make a sound. He started to recall all the advices Mister Norway had given him on facing an enemy. “ _First of all, the size or the power doesn’t matter,_ ” he had told. “ _You can beat any opponent just by waiting the right moment and then taking them by surprise. You can also often benefit from the situation if you understand to play your cards right. And finally, the most important thing: never let your guard down._ ” He had demonstrated his points by simply stepping aside when Mister Denmark, who had sneaked behind him lunged, and pushed him to the ground with such a force that Finland was surprised he hadn’t broke anything.

   This boy clearly wasn’t really attentive; he paid attention only to the surroundings of the house. After he had made sure that there weren’t anyone around, he continued cautiously towards the main building. Finland quickly formed a plan. He would stay back and watch what the boy had in mind, but if he stepped over the threshold, he would take action. He would have an advance indoors because it was dark there and he, unlike the boy, knew it like the back of his hand. He took one of the old swords lying around on the grass. It was a little too heavy for him, but it would serve its purpose.

   The boy was now at the door. Finland tightened his grip of the handle of the sword. He could do this.

   He watched as the boy pushed the door open and went inside. And that was when he remembered that Iceland was supposed to be sleeping there. Cursing his idiocy he ran quietly after the boy. He got the door just before it closed. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, but soon he could distinguish a figure standing in the centre of the room. The boy looked as nervous as he felt.

   Silently Finland walked behind him and pressed the blade against his neck. “Who are you and why are you here?”

   The boy stiffened and didn’t turn. “You torment so many people you can’t even remember all of them?” he laughed bitterly. “And what comes to my reason to be here, I think you have already guessed it.” Without a warning he spun around and tried to flash with his own sword.

   The move was suicidal, but for the boy’s luck Fin’s sword was dulled being outside so long, so it caused only a deep scratch from his neck to his right shoulder. The boy hissed and slashed again. Finland raised his sword to block it and then attacked back. He put all his strength into the strike forcing the boy to step back and causing him to trip on a stool. He fell landing badly on his shoulder, which made him gasp in pain.

   Finland took an advantage of his distraction, wrenched the sword from his grasp and grabbed him from the tunic. The boy tried to look defiant and not to show his fear, but his eyes widened in confusion when he realised who actually was holding him in the mid-air.

   “Kes sa oled?”

   Finland didn’t realise he had released his grip until the boy cried out hitting the floor again. He just stared him astonished. Although the intonation was slightly off and the words sounded a bit weird, the question itself had been completely comprehendible. It had almost sounded like Finnish. Who the heck was this boy?

   “Finnland?” A soft voice interrupted his frantic thoughts. Shit, Iceland had woke up.

   “It’s OK, Ice,” he said trying to sound as soothing as possible. “Just go back to bed.”

   The small boy stayed next to the screen that separated the sleeping area from the rest of the room and eyed the stranger lying on the floor. “Who is he?”

   “Oh, he’s, mmm, he’s just a friend of mine. Sorry if we woke you. We’ll be quieter so you can go back to sleep.”

   The boy looked at them suspiciously but obeyed and crawled back to bed.

   Finland sighed in relief and then turned his attention back to the boy still lying on the floor. He grabbed him and dragged at the fireplace. “Don’t even think of starting a row again,” he hissed under his breath.

   The boy sat still on the bench he had been pushed and watched as the other searched for a lantern and lit it. “Who are you?” he asked again quietly when Finland turned back at him.

   “Suomi.” he said pulling another bench opposite him and set the lantern between them. “But I think I have also the right to know who the hell you are.”

   “I’m Estonia. Why are you here? Did they kidnap you or something?”

   “What? Who–? You mean Misters Sweden, Denmark and Norway? No. They didn’t kidnap me. I live here.”

   The boy, Estonia, looked shocked but then something dawned at him. “You are a nation, aren’t you?”

   “Yes. And so are you, but what that has to do with anything?”

   “How can you live with those barbarians? Did they force you to live here?”

   “No. No one forced me to anything. I live here when I feel lonely. And like this I don’t have to stand Novgorod creeping around.”

   “Apparently they have beaten even him so that he wouldn’t try attacking them back. Just like all the others,” Estonia mumbled.

   “What the heck are you talking about? Who have they, supposedly, beaten?”

   “Who haven’t they? They have been tormenting all the cost line! Robbing everything valuable, destroying buildings and killing everyone who tries to oppose them! Lithuania told they have been attacking countries even far on the west and south. They– “ his voice rose with every sentence and Finland had to put a hand on his mouth for preventing him from yelling.

   “Keep it down,” he hissed. “And I don’t believe you. Yes, sometimes they may attack other countries, but only for a reason. And they would never be as brutal as you claim!”

   “I have proof.” The boy dug his pockets and tossed him something. “You can find these and other stuff from the ruins they leave behind.”

   Finland looked a piece of metal in his hand. The light glinted from the polished bronze and illuminated the engravings in it. He recognised it well. He even owned a few of these ornaments himself.

   “This doesn’t prove anything,” he said tossing it back. “You can have gotten it from anywhere.”

   “That’s not all I have. Look at for example that tapestry behind you.” Finland turned and noticed that he was pointing at the cloth with an abstract pattern, which Mister Sweden had brought, from one of his trips. “That’s from my house. And those dishes belonged to Latvia’s people. And that shield looks a lot like the ones Novgorod’s soldiers use.” The boy looked him victoriously.

   Finland looked all items he had pointed. They all were souvenirs from the trips. A small doubt started to raise its head: could it be that everything wasn’t as he had thought? The older boys were away quite often and they never took him or Ice with them. And their baggage always contained weapons, more than one would need just for safe.

   “How much damage have these attacks caused?” he asked slowly.

   “No one knows. Everyone has lost count with their attacks.”

   Finland thought about it. “Why are you here?” he asked even though he already knew the answer.

   “It’s a high time someone teaches them what it feels like when someone robs and destroys your home.”

   “But what where you planning to do all by yourself.”

   The boy thought it a moment and his confidence dropped. “I… I don’t know. Most of my plans were about getting here unnoticed and I didn’t really plan what I would do if I actually got this far.”

   An awkward silence fell between them. Finland racked his brains to find some other subject. “When you first saw me, you asked who I was in a strange language. What was it?”

   “Oh, it was my mother tongue, Estonian. I know it sounds quite weird– “

   “Ihmettelin vain, koska se kuulosti niin paljon minun äidinkieleltäni, suomelta.”

   The boy blinked at him. “What…”

   “I was surprised because I don’t know anyone like us who could understand my mothertongue, Finnish. But you understood what I said, didn’t you?”

   “Yes, some of it. It sounds a bit like Estonian. I’ve never before heard of anyone who would speak even remotely like I do.”

   “Where do you live? How haven’t I heard about you before?”

   “I live in Livonia. It’s west from Novgorod, on the south side of the gulf,” he added when Finland looked at him quizzically.

  “Oh, I know the place! I’ve never actually been there, but I’ve heard stories about it. I live on the other side of the gulf.”

   “Really? It’s weird we haven’t heard from each other before.”

   “Yes. It’s a pity. It would be great to have someone who I could speak with without having to learn a completely new language.”

   “That would be nic–“ he was cut off by a big yawn he tried to hide.

   “God, it’s late. You much be really tired. We can continue this in the morning.” Finland rose and went to rummage one of the chests at the wall.

   “Yes, I should be leaving,” Estonia rose too and went to pick up his sword.

   “What?” Finland turned holding a blanket. “Oh, no, you don’t have to leave. Come on, you can sleep here.” He grabbed his right arm and pulled him towards the sleeping area causing the boy to flinch in pain. “Oh, I’m so sorry! Did I hurt you?”

   “No, my shoulder is just a bit–“

   “Sit down.” Finland pushed him back on the bench he had been sitting and went at a cupboard.

   “Oh, you don’t have to–“

   “I was the one who beat you into that condition, so it’s only fair I’m the one who patches you up. Now sit still so I can take a look.” He moved the lantern to the better spot and helped him to take of his tunic. “Luckily I didn’t wound you badly; it’s only a scratch. But you’ll get a handsome bruise on your shoulder. This may sting a little,” he warned when he started to clean the wound with a wet cloth. The water and the pressure felt pretty uncomfortable, but soon it was over. “You can change the bandage in a few days, but it should be healed by then.”

“Thank you. That was quick.”

“I’ve had to treat so many injuries I know how to do that backwards,” he laughed quietly. “But now we should really go to sleep. Here, take this.” He gave him the blanket. “You can sleep in the sleeping area with me and Iceland. There’s plenty of room because there’s only two of us at the moment.”

Estonia followed him behind the screen. Finland could hear him crawl close to the wall as he set down next to Iceland and blow out the lantern. A silence settled into the darkness.

   “I knew about it,” Finland heard almost inaudible whisper.

   “Are you still awake, Ice?” he asked turning towards the younger boy.

   “I already knew what they do on their trips.”

   “You don’t have to worry about that. Just go to sleep.”

   When the boy didn’t say anything, Finland expected that he had finally fallen asleep. But his words had raised a question that kept him awake. _Was I the only one who didn’t know?_

* * *

 

“Thank you. You have been too kind to me.”

   “You’re welcome. Think this as a compensation for the last night.” An awkward silence fell between the two. Iceland observed them quietly over his breakfast.

   “I think it’s time for me to go,” Estonia said and rose from the table. “Thank you for everything.”

   “Ah, you’re welcome,” Finland rose too. “Do you need anything for you journey?”

   “No, thanks. I have everything I need.”

   “Do you, mmm, want to take your things back,” he mumbled motioning towards the tapestry.

   Estonia was taken aback by a sudden offer. “No, I don’t need it. And you would probably get into trouble because of it. To tell the truth, I’ve never even liked it. It’s quite ugly.”

   Finland smiled shyly. “True. I’ll accompany you to your boat.”

   The older boys stepped out into the bright morning light and started to walk to the shore. “How long does a journey from here to Livonia take?”

   “Normally, if the weather is good, it should take a week. But my boat is small, so it takes a little longer.”

   “Do you sail often?”

   “Not really. I prefer other types of transportation. What about you?”

   “Sometimes, but I’m not very good at it. Even Iceland is better than me.”

   “What do you do then?”

   “Not much. I spent most of my time wandering in the forest and trying to avoid Novgorod.”

   This was when they reached the shore. The place was half a kilometre to north from the point where Finland had stand last evening and a short headland was an only thing that had prevented him from seeing a small boat tied here.

   “Suomi, what is this?” Estonia pointed the boat and all the new equipment and food supplies that hadn’t been there yesterday.

   Finland fidgeted and kept his eyes on the ground. “I woke up early to feed the sheep and I know that you had to come by a boat, so I searched it. I know it doesn’t compensate what they have done to you, but…”

   “I don’t need you charity.”

   “It’s nothing like that! The only reason why I give them to you is that I can get at least some peace of mind.”

   Estonia was quiet for a moment before speaking again: “You don’t have to feel sorry for the things they have done; you have nothing to do with them. And don’t you get into trouble for giving all this to me?”

   “Mister Denmark told me to handle everything as if it would be my own. And that’s what I’m doing right now.”

   They smiled at each other. “I don’t think that’s what he meant, but thank you once again.”

   “You’re welcome.”

   “I think I should go now so that I can take advance of day light.”

   “Are you sure your shoulder is OK?”

   “Yes, it’s fine. Well, good-bye then. I hope we’ll meet again.”

   “Maybe I’ll come to visit your house.”

   “Just give me a warning when you’re coming so that I can welcome you properly.” They both laughed, Estonia climbed in, and Finland gave him a push so that the boat glidedfurther on the lake and he raised the mast and spread the white sail.

   “Safe journey,” Finland called from the bank and Estonia waved back. The boat glided slowly farther off leaving small ripples behind it. He waited until it had disappeared behind the next headland before turning to go back. He should check if Iceland was OK.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: First some things that might help to understand what you just read. Novgorod is an earlier state of a nation we know nowadays as Russia. They had been fighting against (and with) Finnish tribes basically since both of them learned how to make weapons.  
> And then the translations:
> 
> (Estonian) ”Kes sa oled?” = “Who are you?”  
> (Icelandic) “Finnland?” = “Finland?”  
> (Finnish) “Suomi.” = “Finland.”  
>  “Ihmettelin vain, koska se kuulosti niin paljon minun äidinkieleltäni, suomelta.” = ”I was just wondering since it sounded so much like my mother tongue, Finnish.”
> 
> It was actually quite hard to write anything about the Viking Age and Finland, because it was abnormally uneventful. Finns didn’t do much but quarrelled with each other and occasionally with Swedish or Novgorodian (is that even a word) soldier, nothing exceptional in that. They actually were in surprisingly good relations with the Vikings. They didn’t do raids to Finland, which might be because a) we were pretty poor and b) we were useful when they need guides on their expeditions to east. That’s why my Fin doesn’t have a clue about the true meaning of their trips. And he is quite young, so that explains his naivety.  
>  But I couldn’t have just past the Viking Age. And then I stumbled on a funny historical fact: in 1187, Estonian Vikings (I’d never heard about such things before) raided a Swedish town called Sigstuna. Apparently some historians give the glory to the Latvians, Novgorodians or even Karelians (an eastern Finnish tribe), but I’m going to stick with the Estonians. But the truth is that the doors that were taken from the church in Sigtuna can even today be seen in the Saint Sophia Cathedral in Novgorod.  
>  I also play again with the Finnish-Uralic language family -idea as in the first chapter. The Finnish and Estonians can understand each other in some basic level. I, for example, can’t understand a thing about spoken Estonian, but when it’s written down, I can guess at least the subject of the text. The Estonia’s question is example of the close relationship between the two languages: it sounds like very colloquial Finnish.  
>  I also think that Finnish and Estonian people would have known of each other before that, but for the sake of the story, I chanced it. Livonia is a name of area containing modern Estonia and Latvia. And Iceland is now also a part of the gang, since Norwegian Vikings found it on the 9th century. The reason why Estonia calls Finland ‘Suomi’ is that in Estonian (unlike in most of the other languages) Finland is Soome, deriving from that word. And Finland mentions the sheep for a reason. Vikings actually had a special breed of sheep which wool they used in their sails. That and the way they made them were the main reason why Viking ships efficiency wasn’t surpassed before the steam engines. And it’s not coincident that Norway is the one who teach Finland about fighting. The Norwegian Vikings were the most violent ones creating most havoc around them.  
>  In next part is going to be about religion since Christianity is arriving to the North.


	3. Hokkus Pokkus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I have come here to save your immortal souls and guide you from your heretic ways.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Making this took way longer than I expected, mainly because I have been working my ass off with different school works and got dragged into a few new fandoms. But here it is, my version of how Christianity came to Finland.  
> This is my input to 1 million fanwork celebration.

A large crowd had gathered on the frozen lake defying the freezing weather. Finland did his best to force his way pass the mass of chattering people. At last, he got in the middle of the crowd and saw the reason of the entire racket. There, surrounded by a circle of his men, sat a group of six strange men on the snow. They looked a bit shabby, like someone had given them a little beating. Five of them were clearly soldiers, big men in foreign armours, but the sixth was the one who attracted Fin’s attention. He was slender and older than the others, clearly more used to work indoors, and more groomed in his expensive looking clothes and furs. It seemed that he was close to faint in fear.

“I heard you were caught sneaking near the village,” Finland said. “You have one minute to give me a good explanation why.”

The fancy man glanced at the armed men standing around him and then his companions in the snow and when they did nothing to answer, he spoke up. “I want to speak with the highest possible authority,” he weakly demanded with a funny accent.

Finland mentally cursed his shortness and childlike appearance. This wasn’t the first time when he wasn’t taken seriously because he looked like a damn five year old. “I _am_ the highest authority.”

The fancy man looked questioning but then something dawned at him. “You are one of _them_.”

“I don’t know what you mean by them, but you still haven’t answered my question. Why were you lurking around our houses?”

“Lurking? I have come here to save your immortal souls and guide you from your heretic ways.”

Finland raised his hand to stop his men from drawing their weapons. The fancy man had to be a lunatic to be stupid enough to insult locals and their habits. He tried to control his own rising urge to punch the man.

A small commotion rose on the edge of the crowd. To his surprise, he saw Sweden and a few his soldiers push through the crowd.

“Told you not to wander away,” Sweden scowled at the fancy man. “Sorry about this,” he said turning at Finland. “He’s English.”

“What are you doing here?” Finland asked. “I thought you had things to do in your own country.” Although he shouldn’t be surprised: Sweden had lately taken quite an interest to him and his affairs. The latest example being how he arranged a proper border between him and Novgorod. Don’t get him wrong, of course he was grateful to finally end the constant fight about the border land, but he would have been more comfortable, if he had had more say in the matter.

“Someone had to come to look after him,” Sweden motioned towards the fancy man, who rose dusting his clothes from the snow.

“I’m Henry, the Archbishop of Uppsala. I have come here North to tell you about the teachings of Jesus Christ.”

“Oh, so that’s it all about! Some Novgorod’s people have already told me about it.”

The fancy man looked questioningly at Sweden. “They’re Orthodox,” he explained.

The man looked horrified. “We cannot let those buggers teach their heresy here!”

“Let me get this straight,” Finland interrupted him. “So you have come all the way here to convert me to this religion of yours?”

“Yes. Denmark and Norway turned Christians too,” Sweden admitted.

“And of course we will help you with the transition. We can, for instance, support financially the building of the church,” the fancy man added eagerly. “I have already seen a few wonderful place for them.”

Finland fought the urge to drag his hand down his face. The easiest way to get rid of them was probably just give in. “Fine,” he sighed. ”I join you.”

* * *

 

“Lots of mumbling and not anything useful,” Finland muttered as he threw his bag on his bunk. He hadn’t understood practically anything about the Sunday mass, as usual.

He went to the food cabin and took out some fresh milk and bread. He put both at the chest near the oven. “Hokkus Pokkus,” he said smiling to himself and raising the milk bin with a mocking solemnity before putting it back down next to bread and going out take care of the horses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now history time! So, this chapter takes place in 13th century, when Swedish made their second crusade to Finland (the first one might be a myth). Henry’s character is based on Saint Henry, the bishop of Finland, who was allegedly murdered by a Finnish peasant, Lalli, on the ice of Lake Kyöliönjärvi. You can google him if you want to know more.  
> Legend says that Henry came to Finland with Swedish king, Eric (whose also a saint), on the First Swedish crusades. They goal was to make Catholicism to the main religion. Novgorod was trying to do the same from the east with Orthodoxy. At that time both religions where having slap fight over which one was the representative of true Christianity and they for example ostracised each other. That’s why they had also a few clashes in Finland until it became properly part of Sweden and Catholicism.  
> What comes to Sweden negotiating a border between Finland and Novgorod, yes, they actually did that. In 1323, Sweden and Novgorod Republic signed Treaty of Nöteborg, which created the first official border between them (and yes, local Finns weren’t much consulted on the matter). The Sweden’s part consisted roughly third of the area we currently know as Finland.  
> Of course it wasn’t that easy to turn Finns into Catholicism. People went to the masses, but at home the kept their old traditions and gods. One of the Pope even wrote a letter to Swedish high rank church men to keep the people in line. The name of chapter is popular Finnish magic words hokkus pokkus (in English written as hocus pocus), which is thought to come from a part of Latin Eucharist, when the pries raises the communion cup and says: Hoc est corpus meum (in English: This is my body). The common people had no clue what was said, but they understood that something important what happening. And so the words change in the mouth of the people to mean a moment when something magical happens.  
> Next in turn should be Kalmar Union.


End file.
